My jaw muscles tighten as I study her face. I can see she isn’t going to back down, and the problem is that arguing with her only sparks more desire inside me. It’s a dangerous risk to take. And I genuinely am tired, so my defenses aren’t as strong as they usually are.
“Georgie, I’m so tired, I just want to crawl into bed and rest.”
“Fine. You can. You climb into bed, and I’ll sit right here, and we can talk. You can be comfortable.” She marches over to my bed and sits on the end near the bottom. She crosses her legs and leans her back against one of the four bedposts.
I chuckle and let out an amused sigh. She is a challenge I love to face.
“Alright.” I shake my head, giving in. “I’m just going to change into something more comfortable.”
“I’ll wait here,” she says, smiling, pleased with herself.
Every flicker of emotion that crosses her face fascinates me. She has no idea how beautiful she is. She’s a drug I can’t get enough of, one that I have barely tasted, but desperately want. The problem is that once I truly experience her, I know the addiction will be inescapable.
I walk over to my closet and pull it open. Standing there, I tug out a pair of sweatpants and a black T-shirt. With a glint of mischief bolting through me, I strip down with my back turned to her.
I hear her shift on the bed and clear her throat softly. I can feel her eyes on me. I like it.
Dressed, I walk to the bed and tug the blankets aside, slipping beneath them. I sit with my back against the headrest and watch her.
There are definite boundaries in place here, with her over there and me over here. Boundaries I would love to tear down.
“Talk to me, Kris,” she says gently.
I scrunch my nose, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but at the same time, I want to open up to her. I want to feel close to her.
“It is my father,” I confess. “He’s been causing a lot of trouble for me. A lot of pretty serious trouble.” I glance at her, and she nods, patient and listening.
I start talking. Really talking. Sharing in ways I have never shared with anyone before. I talk about my father, how he’s made my life a living hell in terms of the business. How he’s made my life and Jess’s a constant drain with his nastiness and the way he only has time for us if we pose some kind of value to him in some way. I talk, and talk, and the more I share, the better I feel.
Georgie is a great listener. She nods, occasionally sharing her thoughts on something I tell her, expressing her outrage when she hears about some of the things my father has done.
While I speak, she shifts closer. She’s unaware she’s doing it because she’s so engrossed in my stories. She moves fromthe bottom of the bed to the middle, then she shifts higher, and higher still, until she’s right next to me, leaning with her shoulder against the headrest with her body turned towards me.
“So, did something happen after you forced him to step down at that event? He must have been furious with you,” she remarks, her eyes wide and her brows raised high.
“Yes, it was the event that triggered your kidnapping.”
She looks shocked. “Really?” she stammers. “Me?”
“He figured out…um…how close Jess was to you. And he knows I would do anything to protect Jess from any kind of hurt. He somehow figured out that you mean a lot to, um, both of us, and he used that against me.”
She tilts her head to the side, narrowing her eyes. I can see the questions flickering over her gaze as she looks at me through the curtain of her dark lashes. I couldn’t be entirely honest with her. I couldn’t tell her that my father figured out that I’m obsessed with her, that I’ve been watching her for years, that she is my weakness.
I clear my throat and smile.
“He uses people like objects, and I’m sorry you got caught up in it.”
And I’m not sorry. He brought you right into my life, into my home.
“He sounds like a full-blown narcissist,” she mutters.
“He’s a sociopath, I have no doubt of that. But yes, he’s the reason I’m being so difficult, not wanting you to go out alone, wanting to keep an eye on you. I know it might seem like a lot, but you’re my responsibility now, Georgie. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
She shifts again, hiding a yawn behind her hand, then moves lower in the bed, snuggling into the blankets. “I appreciate what you’ve done to keep me safe, Kris. I’m really glad you told me everything. You don’t have to hide this stuff from me.”
“I’m going to fix all of this,” I say quietly, looking over at her and realizing that her eyes are closed.
Shit.
